


please don't let me drown

by trashystories



Series: save me from these waves, i can't swim [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hydra (Marvel), Hydra Peter Parker, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Summaries, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, Irondad, Irondad & Spiderson, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Deserves Better, Peter Parker Has Nightmares, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, spiderson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-20 02:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19368604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashystories/pseuds/trashystories
Summary: Peter Parker has been in HYDRA's grasp for a year, being tortured and experimented on daily. When Tony Stark finds the boy, curled into a ceiling corner, bloodied and bruised, he had no idea of what would lay ahead. And of how much he'd be willing to do for this boy with bright eyes.ORWhere Peter Parker is tortured by Hydra, and Tony finds him and basically adopts him. Irondad & Spiderson





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Lovelies!
> 
> Here are the TRIGGER WARNINGS for this chapter :)  
> Implied sexual abuse.   
> Graphic description of torture.  
> Experimentation.
> 
> Remember to do what's best for you, and don't read if any of these will trigger you
> 
> Safe Reading!

The news reporter was pretty enough, her blonde hair combed as straight as it could be, light mascara decorating her eyelids, her blouse ironed smooth. She stood in the centre of the screen, her fingers stiffly wrapped around a microphone, a run-down store with the name _Delmar’s_ sitting on its roof behind her. On the screen below her, seated in a yellow bar were the words, _“What happened to Peter Parker?”._ When she spoke, her voice sounded both unconcerned and sympathetic, an odd mixture that left a bad taste in Tony Stark’s mouth.

_“Exactly one year ago today, Peter Benjamin Parker, just 14 at the time, vanished seemingly without a trace, alongside both his aunt and uncle, May and Benjamin Parker; last being seen here, at Delmar’s Sandwich Shop at Queens. Throughout this year, the discovery of both May Parker and Benjamin Parker’s bodies have shaken the investigation of this incident, leaving detectives with no idea where Peter Parker could be.”_

An image flashed onto the screen, of a pale, almost sickly-looking kid with ruffled brown hair and a wide grin. Tony stared at the teenager, seemingly captivated by his bright eyes that shone through the lenses of his glasses.

_“With absolutely no security footage, or evidence that can be used for police to find Peter Parker, friends of the boy are seemingly losing hope that this young, talented teenager will come back to them. Several public campaigns have been launched by the children at his school, to raise money to help fund his investigation. But for now, a year on from his untraceable disappearance, we are all left to wonder; What happened to Peter Parker?”_

“Poor kid,” Clint muttered from his place on the couch, receiving several murmurs of agreement from the team. For a moment, a blanket of solemnity had been placed over the team of heroes, as they all processed the missing boy and his dead aunt and uncle. “Oh well.” Grabbing the remote, Sam flicked the channel over to _Passengers_ and received several groans from the team, complaining that it had been the seventh time this week they had seen the blasted movie.

Still, as the team moved on from the sombre moment, Tony couldn’t seem to shake the brightness of the child’s eyes.

* * *

 

Arachnid was _so_ uncomfortable. It was freezing, and all he was given was too tight and too worn boxers, and the floor in which his face was currently pressed against was so rough and the blood that had crusted on every inch of his body was so itchy and he was _uncomfortable._ He knew far better than complain though, and instead remained still, waiting to be summoned by his Handler to be treated. He forces his discomfort to the back of his mind, for he is a weapon, and weapons feel nothing.

He feels nothing.

His day follows a strict routine. He is allowed to sleep for an hour only, before he must be woken to go to the Lab, where he is treated to stabilise his body advancements. His treatment consists of several injections, each day with a new modification, which leave him frothing and shuddering for at least an hour before he adapts to his newest change. After his body accepts his enhancement, he is taken to the testing room. Testing covers all aspects of his powers, from healing to strength. Testing hurts the most. He is allowed two bathroom visits a day, and once a week he is given food, granted that he has earned it. Every night he is given a single plastic cup of water, that Arachnid often uses to clean the blood off his skin, rather than drink.

Arachnid sees no problem with this daily schedule. It is efficient in him becoming the ultimate disciplined weapon, and in a way, it is comforting to have something similar each day.

Today however, everything seems to go wrong.

The guards file into his room, landing several sharp kicks to his ribs before yanking him up by his arms, dislocating his shoulders in the process. It doesn’t matter how much damage they do though, because by the time he reaches the Lab, he is already healed.

Usually, when he enters the Lab, he is distant. He knows better than to stay present, when his physical body betrays his mental discipline. Today though, he is oddly aware of everything around him. He notices the pain that flourishes in his wrists and ankles when they are tied to the rough table. He notices the scientist that leers over him with a sadistic grin. He notices the far-too-big needle in their hand, with the red, angry looking liquid ready to be injected into his veins.

His worst mistake, however, was shying away from the needle when the scientist went to inject him. They seemed taken aback for a moment, before continuing, faster and harsher than usual. As much as he tried to shrink into the table he couldn’t escape the needle, or the cry of pain that came with it.

That was it. He’d done it now.

The scientist yanked the needle from his vein, leaving a steady trail of crimson running down his arm. A harsh slap was landed on his face, brining unwanted tears to his eyes and leaving a sting to his cheek.

_“Arachnid,”_ the scientist growled, _“it seems you’re malfunctioning.”_

_“You know what we do to boys who’ve been bad.”_

There was a rustling in the background, before a guard handed the scientist a machine Arachnid was far too familiar with. Another whimper escaped his lips, and he bit his tongue so hard it bled in an attempt to lessen his suffering. The first shock had him screaming. Shamelessly begging for mercy.

“PleasePleasePleaseI’lldoanythingjustpleasestop.”

_“You’ve been a bad boy, Arachnid.”_

The phrase circled around his head for what seemed like hours, and he had given up hope that he would ever feel anything but the blind, white hot searing pain that was coming from all angles of his head and he couldn’t see anything but white and all he could hear was _bad bad bad bad bad._

When it finally turned off, Arachnid was left coughing and panting and spluttering. The scientist huffed, as if the whole session had been one whole inconvenience that could have simply been avoided.

_“Arachnid?”_

He knew he was supposed to say something. Something they wanted to hear. They were supposed to fix him, but if anything, he’s even worse than before.

“Hail HYDRA.”

Was that right? Apparently it was, judging by the scientist’ seemingly satisfied look.

_“Take him back to his cell. Deal with him as you please.”_

He let his head roll to the side as the guards dragged him back to his cell, bracing himself for his next punishment.

The next few hours were absolute torture. Usually, with punishments like these Arachnid is blissfully unaware of his treatment, but today of course, nothing is going his way. He feels each one of his ribs break, he feels his wrist being bent in ways it shouldn’t and all over his body he feels the slashes and punches. One by one, they all lose interest and leave, until Arachnid was alone with a guard he knew all too well.

He feels his body go stiff, he pitifully attempts to shuffle back into the wall to avoid him, but he knows he can’t. The man coos at him in a voice that comforts him in a sickening way. He hears himself beg, he knows he’s trying to fight the man, but he just laughs, as if it were all some sick game. Arachnid closes his eyes and goes limp. He tries to disappear.

Alarms interrupt his self-pity. Red, flashing lights and a call to all guards. The man above him huffs, before abruptly leaving, without so much as a kick goodbye. Arachnid seizes his opportunity to scale the walls, tucking himself into the ceiling’s corner. He can hear fighting and shouts from several hallways away, and slowly he can hear guard after guard drop dead.

He shudders in his hiding place, praying that whoever has come does not find him, or kills him quickly.

He hears footsteps coming closer, unfamiliar voices shouting at each other over the chaos. He knows he is unprepared to fight them. Is he ready to die? He isn’t sure.

His door is blasted open, the sound of the metal door clashing against the wall making Arachnid’s ear’s ring.

* * *

 

When the team had been called to take down a ‘small’ hydra base, Tony really wasn’t expecting the amount of guards they were faced with. With a nod to the rest of his team, they split up, mowing down the guards as they attempting to find what exactly they were guarding.

When he blasts down another plain metal door, he really wasn’t ready for what he was met with. He expected another empty reinforced cell, like the last _twenty_ had been. But this time, the floor was saturated with blood, the metallic smell practically slapping him in the face. He scanned the room, seeing no immediate threat, and realised, after stepping into it, that again, it was just another empty room.

Whoever was in here isn’t anymore.

At least he thought that, until he heard a small whimper come from above him, and his head snapped up to see a boy, covered in his own blood and bruises. He could make out that the boy was visibly shaking, and, after looking around to make sure no guards were nearby, he decided it was safe to step out of his iron man suit. Show the kid that he wasn’t going to hurt him.

“Hey buddy, what are you doing up there?” He hoped that was comforting enough. He really wasn’t good with kids.

In response, the boy let out another small cry and tried to shrink back into the wall.

“Would it be okay if you come down here buddy? I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.”

The kid looked hesitant. Well of course he does, he thinks to himself, it’s not as if now that I’ve said he can trust me is he magically gonna believe you.

Tony tried to coax the kid to come down for would could have been at least ten minutes, before Natasha’s voice filled his earpiece.

“Stark, everything good with you?”

Tony sighed, knowing that the boy was not going to come down anytime soon.

“I found a kid, he’s pretty beaten up and he won’t come down from the ceiling.”

A slight pause.

“Ok, I’m on my way. Everyone else has finished up so they’ll meet us at the Quinjet.”

Within a minute, she arrived her eyes settling on the boy who was currently shivering in the corner of the ceiling. She abruptly pushed tony out of the room, ignoring his protests, telling him that she would get him down in a minute.

Fastening a mask around her mouth and nose, she gassed the room with a strong anaesthetic, which slowly knocked the boy out. As soon as he fell from the ceiling, Nat caught him, before carrying him outside and handing him to Tony.

Now, finally with a good view of the kid, a hint of recognition flashed through Tony’s eyes and he let out a curse.

“Peter Parker?”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guyssss,  
> Here are the trigger warnings for this chapter!  
> Torture/Child abuse  
> Bit of anxiety, nothing too harsh
> 
> It's mainly just irondad bonding today, but remember stay safe!
> 
> Safe reading!

The ride back to the Compound was quiet. Natasha and Clint spoke in hushed voices as they guided the aircraft back to the base, Sam and Wanda sat silently next to each other as Steve informed Bruce of their situation as quietly as he could, and Tony sat close by the boy, _Peter_ , taking in his features.

His ribs stuck out painfully, and thousands of cuts and bruises littered his frame. God, he looked so _small._ His cheeks were hollow and sunken, his hair a greasy mess, completed with deep, dark circles decorating the outside of his eyes.

Tony tried his hardest to imagine the happy, healthy-enough looking boy he had seen on the news not two weeks ago lying in front of him.

In a way, he felt like he had failed this kid. Was it not his job to protect people? To eliminate threats, like HYDRA, before things liked this happened?

“Fri, bring up everything you know about the Peter Parker case.”

For the next hour, Tony sifted through countless police reports and news articles, each accompanied by a haunting photo of the happy teen, with the wide grin and the bright eyes.

As it turns out, the only family Peter had was his aunt and uncle, both who presumably were murdered by Hydra, since his mother and father died in a plane accident when he was very young.

The reality of it all hit Tony like a truck. This kid had nobody waiting for him. Nobody praying for his safe return each night.

He was tortured for a whole year, and yet Tony did nothing.

Some Iron Man he is.

Nat and Clint announced their arrival, and as soon as the ramp landed, Bruce and Rhodey were wheeling the boy to the med bay.

Tony’s gaze lingered on the broken boy as he disappeared, his jaw set tight.

Yeah. Some Iron Man he is.

* * *

 

The walls were white, a colour that seemed to scream at Arachnid. _Not safe not safe not safe._ He blinked blearily, the world around him swimming in and out of focus as he desperately tried to clear the fog from his mind.

Where was he?

He shuffled in his spot, noting that a needle was protruding from his vein, connected to some bag that made him feel cold and dizzy and soft. _Not safe not safe not safe._ He yanked the IV from his arm, and it all came back to him.

Memories of pain and bruises and they were cutting into him oh god he was going to bleed out and he cant breathe no matter how hard he tries he’s drowning they’re going to kill him –

_I’m scared too Honey, but Petey I need you to focus on something sweetie, come back to me._

He recognised that voice. Something told him that it had comforted him on more than one occasion, but for now, he needed to listen to it, and focus.

There was a faint beeping behind him, steady and consistent. He followed it, his breath evening out as the beeps slowed.

_There you go, sweetheart, you’re doing great._

The door clicked open, a shorter man cautiously stepping inside the room, a white lab coat hanging off his frame. _Not safe not safe not safe._ He scrambled off the bed and scaled the wall to take refuge in the ceiling’s corner, ripping countless wires and monitors from his body in the process.

He knew what those coats meant. They meant needles and knives and so much _pain._

The man seemed to follow his gaze, his facial features morphing from surprise to gentle understanding. He slowly backed out of the room, only to re-enter moments later without his coat. To Arachnid, he seemed like much less of a threat now, but he didn’t dare move from his place on the ceiling.

“Hey Peter, my name’s Bruce Banner; I’m here to help you.”

Peter. The name echoed around his head for longer than it should have.

_Peter, honey, everything is going to be okay_.

“I need you to come down from the ceiling though Peter, so I can make sure you heal properly.”

Arachnid closes his eyes.

_A woman pressed a torn and blood-soaked cloth along his wrists, her own tears dripping from her cheek and mixing with his blood. Crimson waves poured from him, paling his skin as quick as it was staining the floor red._

_“Stay with me baby, please…”_

_His body felt weird. His wrists hurt, of course, but it wasn’t the stinging pain that he had felt for the hour they had left him on the table after dragging the blade down his arm._

_No, this was more of an itch. The kind of itch that would come from a scab that was healing a mosquito bite._

_He groans, pushing himself into an upright position and gently shrugging the woman off him, despite her protests and loud wails._

_He pushed the cloth off his arms, and stared intently at the deep gashes, watching as the skin seemed to knit itself together, left to right. He lifted his gaze to the woman, catching a mixture of relief, sadness, and another emotion he couldn’t identify._

_“I-I’m alive.”_

_It was obvious, but he felt as though he needed to fill the splitting silence that had formed between them. This statement, however, did not stop the tears cascading down the woman’s face, doubling them in intensity._

_He shifted closer to her, gathering her crumpled form in his arms as he drew gentle lines on her shoulder. He felt an unexplainable urge to comfort this woman._

_“I’m alive,” he repeated, as though she hadn’t heard the first time._

_She pulled away, instead choosing to cup his face with her hands, a strained smile gracing her face._

_“Yeah baby, you are.”_

When he opened his eyes, Arachnid was unaware of how long had passed. He was still on the ceiling, however the man had disappeared, and the door was closed.

Outside the door, however, he could hear faint footsteps gradually coming closer. They were light and comforting, non-threatening and casual.

By the time the door opened, Arachnid’s gaze was already trained on the doorway, recognition flittering across his face as he realised that it was the same man who had found him in his cell.

“Hey buddy,” the man called, his voice gentle but not pitying. Arachnid decided that he liked the sound.

As a response, he tilted his head slightly, warily watching as the man stepped closer, but making no indication that he was afraid.

The man seated himself on the discarded bed, pulling out a StarkPad and scrolling a few times before speaking again.

“I’m Tony, by the way.”

Arachnid offered a nod but was thankful that the man seemed to be focused on the device in front of him, not engaging in eye contact with him.

After a few moments of silence, the man began to speak to Arachnid again, speaking casually for about an hour about random topics that he scrolled through on his StarkPad. In this time, Arachnid had slowly edged his way down the ceiling, coming to an awkward stop a few steps in front of the man.

“-Pepper, who’s my fiancé by the way, wants to get a puppy right, but really I don’t think either of us have time to look after it. It is cute though,” he pauses, a welcoming smile gracing his lips as he offers the StarkPad toward him, “See?”

He tiptoed closer to the man, and cautiously crawled onto the bed next to Tony, leaving a hefty distance between the two. His gaze landed on the outstretched StarkPad with an adorable looking puppy with one blue and one brown eye playfully sticking its tongue out at the camera. He smiled. Bringing his gaze up to Tony, he whispered, ever so softly, “He’s cute.”

Immediately he regretted speaking, tensing and bracing for an impact.

It never came.

Instead, Tony chuckled and agreed. After a few moments of silence, which he spent slowly calming his racing heart, Tony stood up, tucking the StarkPad in his jumper.

“This place is pretty bland, Buddy, do you want to go somewhere a little less… white?”

Arachnid stared at the man for a few moments. Was he supposed to respond? Or would that simply result in punishment?

Tony was patient though, keeping a warm smile on his lips, encouraging him to speak freely.

Arachnid couldn’t seem to find the words to voice, but instead he nodded, desperately hoping that this man who didn’t make his mind scream _not safe_ at him would take him to some place that wouldn’t hurt him.

“Awesome.”

Tony’s smile widened, gesturing for him to follow as he made his way out of the room. After a moment’s hesitation, he followed, cautiously taking tiny steps through the halls as Tony led the way to an expensive looking elevator.

Really, everything looked expensive here.

Once the doors closed in the elevator, Arachnid felt as though the silence would suffocate him, alongside the tiny compartment. Sensing his unease, Tony picked the perfect moment to break the silence.

“So what’s your name, bud?”

Arachnid hesitated. Opening and closing his mouth several times before deciding it was safe to answer.

“Arachnid.” God, his voice sounded small.

Tony frowned at that, pausing for a moment before responding.

“Do you like it? Your name, I mean.”

He’d never been asked that before. He never really thought it was important, but now, the word sounds so clinical and harsh.

“No.”

The older man hummed.

“That’s okay,” Tony smiled, hand hovering over his shoulder, but retracting quickly upon noticing the boy’s fear, “We can give you a new one. How does Peter sound?”

Peter. Peter Peter Peter Peter.

“Peter,” the word sat comfortably on his tongue, “…yes please.”

The moment was interrupted by the elevator opening, and Arachnid, _no peter,_ was visibly glad for the fresh air.

To say the floor was beautiful was an understatement. Everything was pristine and perfect, and placed in just the right spot for the most visual appeal.

Tony led him through yet another hallway to what Peter guessed was the guest room. The bed however, was a bunk bed, situated almost right underneath the ceiling. There was an empty bookshelf in the other corner of the room, with a table and chair situated next to it.

He was even lucky enough to get his own balcony.

“So bud, do you want to eat dinner alone or with me?”

He thought for a moment. He was _so_ tired. All this talking and walking drained the little energy he had.

“Alone,” he whispered, “please?”

Tony softened. “Of course buddy, It’s getting pretty late anyway.”

“If you need anything at all, just ask Friday, okay? She’s the AI in the ceiling,”

Tony gestured above him, and the AI gave a quick, polite greeting, startling Peter slightly. Tony looked at him expectantly for a moment, but, once realising that he was done speaking for the day, smiled slightly, edging toward the door.

“Good night, Pete.”

Once the door had closed, and Peter had heard Tony’s footsteps fade away to nothing, he sighed.

“Good night Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW I ACTUALLY ADDED ANOTHER LONGISH CHAPTER
> 
> ok this is an achievement cause this literally never happens, and all my other fics on other sites are all unfinished!
> 
>  
> 
> ANYWAY PLEASE GIVE ME SUPPORT I DONT WANNA LOSE MOTIVATION
> 
> See you next time lovelies

**Author's Note:**

> Yoyoyoyoyo whaddup
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope I find the motivation to continue writing this cause this is like my fav fandom ahaha
> 
> Anyway this is my first fic on this platform but it would mean the world to me if you could give me some feedback/suggestions, cause I wanna improve I guess?
> 
> I think this is an okay length for my chapters? IDK They'll vary.
> 
> ANYWAY
> 
> Until next time lovelies


End file.
